


Unexpected

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [2]
Category: Leverage, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, M/M, Threats, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow-up to <a href="http://theroadhouse.dreamwidth.org/84309.html">Exercising Restraint</a> as Quinn tries to make amends for some of what happened. Clint and Quinn walk into a bar, then have to hide in plain sight from some bad guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

If his orders hadn’t come from Director Fury himself, Clint would have sworn this was somebody’s idea of a really sick joke. _Jonah Quinn is your contact._ The words of Nat’s text message were burned into his brain as he stepped into the bar and saw she was right. The man sitting in the booth at the back of the dimly lit space was a bounty hunter, a mercenary – once upon a time he’d taken a contract on Clint that for want of a Hulk would have ended very, very badly.

Pale eyes met his, and Clint’s chest tightened against a surge of adrenaline. He had his gun and the knives Nat had given him for their “anniversary”, but he would have given up all of it for a chance to have his kit with him. One arrow was all it would take at this distance. He’d put it through Quinn’s eye, and maybe the nightmares would finally stop.

 _We need this intel._ Fury had been adamant that what was at stake could significantly change the course of events unfolding in some very unstable parts of the world. _”You go you pick up the flash drive you leave. No muss, no fuss.”_ It was arguably a public place, even if the clientele was definitely on the shady side. _Get in, get out, no muss no fuss._ Quinn wasn’t a fool – he had to know Clint would be on his guard.

He’d parsed it all out as logically as he could, and still – taking that first step was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

One of the servers reached the table at almost the same time he did, and set down two frosted mugs of beer just as he slid into the booth opposite Quinn. “Tash says you’re a micro-brew fan,” Quinn said by way of explanation.

“You know she hates that nickname.” The words came automatically to Clint’s lips as he settled into his seat.

Quinn shrugged. “She knows I hate being called Jonah.” He paused, studying Clint’s expression. “Look – Natasha and I go back quite a ways. We’ve got our little in-jokes, but there’s nothing serious going on.”

He’d known that – it was one of the first conversations he and Nat had had during his recovery from what Quinn had done to him. _”Look, within the scope of what he does, Quinn’s a good guy,”_ she’d insisted. _”If you want to know the truth, I’d trust him more than I’d trust some of the people supposedly on our side.”_

Considering Clint nearly being delivered into the hands of somebody who’d had every intention of permanently maiming him had fallen under the scope of “what Quinn does”, it had been hard for him to see any of that as a positive.

 _You trust Nat, don’t you?_ Not to mention Clint’s instincts were telling him that Quinn was trying to be nice. Exhaling softly, he willed himself to relax and pick up his drink. It was a pretty decent lager as such things went – he detected a hint of orange and an undertone of honey with just enough spice to catch his interest.

Quinn was smiling when he finally lowered the mug, and looked more relaxed than he had since Clint had entered the bar. “Good, right?”

He was tempted to rebuff the attempt at making friends, but abruptly decided it was too much work. If Quinn caught him off his guard a second time, he deserved whatever happened. “Yeah,” he said, nodding grudgingly. “Not bad.” He paused. “You think this makes things right between us or something?”

Okay, so his ability to forgive some things only stretched so far.

Quinn studied him for a long moment, then sighed and set a flash drive on the table – sliding it across to Clint. “Maybe this will.” Clint took the drive, pulled out his tablet and plugged it in. After the first two items scrolled by he looked up at Quinn again – unable to keep the surprise off his face. “You took a big chance with this,” he said – suddenly aware of how exposed they were. “Is all of it..?” He couldn’t finish the statement – Fury hadn’t been lying when he said the information Quinn was handing over was a potential game changer.

“I should have looked deeper into what Cross wanted you for,” Quinn said by way of reply. William Cross had been an old enemy of Clint’s that had offered a five million dollar bounty to the man who could deliver him alive. “It’s been bothering me.” He looked as though he was going to say more, but picked up his own mug instead and drained half the remaining contents in a single swallow.

“I got greedy,” he said breathlessly, lowering the mug again. “Greed makes you sloppy, and in my line of work…” He paused, and Clint realized just how hard this was for the other man.

“Nat trusts you,” he said, breaking the sudden silence. “As far as she trusts anybody, she trusts you.”

The revelation seemed to please Quinn. “That means a lot, actually,” he admitted. “Part of me assumed once you took her into S.H.I.E.L.D…” He broke off abruptly, eyes ticking towards the door. Clint saw a ripple of tension shiver through him – no longer trying to make friends, Quinn was once more one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Clint immediately disconnected the flash drive and slipped it in one pocket of his jacket, while his tablet went in another. “There’s an exit directly behind you,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm even though his heart was suddenly racing.

Quinn’s pale eyes were on him again, and Clint couldn’t suppress a small glow of satisfaction at spotting a tiny flinch. “You coming?”

“Right behind you.” Clint didn’t hesitate – anyone searching for Quinn likely knew about this meeting, in which case he didn’t want to be anywhere around with the incriminating evidence on him. Besides, as long as Quinn wasn’t at his back, he could deal with whatever came up.

Or so he thought.

They were a third of the way down the corridor leading to the outside and fighting room – if not actually freedom – when three muscled, angry looking toughs appeared at the glass door. Quinn pulled up immediately; Clint had actually started to turn back the way they’d come – even if there were enemies at their back, there was room to maneuver and hopefully escape.

Before he could start heading back in that direction though, Quinn grabbed him and shoved him hard into the nearest wall. Clint was tensing to fight, to throw him off, when the other man pressed in full length and kissed him. “Please,” he whispered as their lips parted – the sound barely more than a breath against Clint’s face. “They didn’t see our faces yet.”

Their eyes met as Clint heard the door open to his right. _No time…_ He gave a quick, tight nod, reaching behind Quinn’s head to slide free the band that kept his hair off his face. Quinn was on him before he finished, one hand gripping the back of his neck, holding him still. This close, he smelled of sweat, spice, and the beer he’d drunk.

Clint shivered as Quinn kissed him again – softer than the first time, almost as if he was asking permission. When Clint didn’t resist, he kissed him again – harder and more insistent this time, almost as if he were pulling Clint further into the charade by force of will. Clint was trying to relax, trying to follow Quinn’s lead, but he could hear the gang that had been outside the door coming closer now – hear the muttered comments about what he and Quinn were doing.

He was distracted when Quinn licked the swell of his lower lip, grabbing it between his teeth a moment later and tugging gently. The soft, surprised moan that rose from his throat in response was completely unexpected; a moment later, Quinn’s tongue was in his mouth, tracing lines of heat that seemed to race through his body, pulling pleasurably on much lower places.

The gunmen were close now; so close that one of them deliberately bumped into Quinn’s shoulder, trying to knock the two of them off balance. Clint tightened his hands on Quinn’s shoulders, steadying him while at the same time pulling him in close enough to realize that sometime in the last handful of heartbeats this had passed from subterfuge into something else entirely.

He had no idea how much time had passed when Quinn finally let him up for air, only that they were alone in the hallway – and if the slightly stunned expression the mercenary was wearing as he looked at Clint was any indication, Quinn had been as affected by what happened as he had.

“I should…um…go,” Quinn stammered. Close as they were pressed into each other, Clint could see the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed nervously. “Yeah…go…”

“You should,” Clint said quietly, but he made no move to push Quinn away or otherwise get free. “They’ve probably moved on.” He would have turned to look, to see for himself if this was the case, but he couldn’t make himself look away from Quinn’s face. _This is so fucked up._ Even if Quinn had been trying to make amends for what had happened, as far as Clint was concerned after everything they’d been through anything that grew out of this moment led nowhere good.

“Tell me to go.” There was an edge of pleading in Quinn’s voice now, as he searched Clint’s features for some hint about what needed to happen next.

The problem was, Clint didn’t know either…


End file.
